


Baby, There's a Fire Burning Inside of Me

by Romancemesomeziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Slight body image issues, Smut, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 11:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19767001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romancemesomeziam/pseuds/Romancemesomeziam





	Baby, There's a Fire Burning Inside of Me

It was crazy warm outside, the air humid and thick as Zayn rolled over in bed, groaning from the way his sweaty skin felt against the cotton sheets. He’d been home for a few days, half way through the American tour and had done basically nothing but sleep and eat his mother’s cooking.

It felt good to be home, to smell the familiarity of laundry detergent his mother had always used. He spent days on the coach watching reruns with his mom, while his sisters went to school, because even if he was back life didn’t stop for him. There was always a world around him that kept turning even when he was away, his parents kept working, his sisters kept growing and he kept feeling as though he had lost his place.

The problem wasn’t that he didn’t love his family, quite the contrary; they meant the world to him. Yet, every time he returned home now, after long tours across the world, singing his heart out to devoted, screeching fans, he felt a little lost.

He was simply too use to sleeping in cramped bunk beds, the sound of the running road lulling him to sleep. Not having his boys around him made him feel a little sick. He woke up seeking Harry’s banana cereal and Niall’s loud laughter. He missed Louis’s idiotic ideas, the nights on the bus spent playing video games. He missed the warmth of Liam’s presence next to him, the possibility of endless cuddles as they talked about the latest marvel movies, their bunks filled with memorabilia they had received when they visited the studios.

It had been over a week since he’d last seen the boys, splitting up from Niall and Louis as they had landed in London, both Liam and Harry choosing to stay behind for production purposes.

At first Zayn had been a little disappointed, use to the comforts of Liam’s flat, the feel of his brand new couch and the silkiness of the guest bedroom sheets. Too often when they returned from tour, only for a brief time he’d return to Bradford for a few days, bathed in the sweetness of his mother’s words, and the laughter of his sisters, but returned to London to spend some time with Liam.

It was a careless antique, just something they did as they wrote dozens of songs that would probably never make it on the album and ate cheap food from Tesco. Yet it felt more like home than the bed he now lay in, sighing in frustration.

His phone had been inactive for days, the only text or calls he got being work related and he ignored those. He got loads of snapchats from Harry, dumb things that lay around or street signs with words he thought were clever. Niall was out partying with his friends, his birthday upcoming and so Zayn didn’t want to bother him. Louis was spending time doing plenty of charity work, which usually left Zayn with Liam, but not this time.

Liam had been unusually quiet, not a call or text to talk about songs, or even to say that the latest Captain America flick was passing on Tv.

Its why, when at 10 O’clock London time, 2am Los Angles time, his phone rang with Liam’s face appearing, Zayn rushed to slide the call into connection, the loud noise of club music drowning out any coherent sound.

“Babe, you there?” Zayn asked, hearing nothing but the warmth of the familiar laughter before the call was disconnected.

He waited a few seconds, watching his phone, begging it to light up again but nothing came, its constant black screen staring back at him, almost mocking him.

Deciding he was rather pathetic, Zayn rolled out of bed, heading down towards the kitchen.

His mother was out grocery shopping while everyone else had left earlier for work or school, leaving him alone in the grand house he had bought for his parents. He had become a guest really in the lives of his family.

Rolling his shoulders, skin sweat slicked from the heated weather, he grabbed the milk out of the fridge, pouring himself some cereal as he watched television standing up, wondering what he was going to do for the next 5 hours before Safa came home and asked him to play video games.

His thoughts were soon interrupted by his ringtone, the device coming to life once more with Liam’s goofy grin flashing on the screen. He thumbed it open, expecting once again another pocket dial.

“Zaynnieeee, are you there babe?” he heard Liam voice slur at the other end of the line, no long filtered by resonating electronic music. It was obvious he had been drinking, his words laced with a sloppy tone.

“I’m here Li, you ok?” Zayn asked, jumping up so he could sit on the edge of the counter, his cereals turning mushy as he twirled his spoon restlessly.

“I’m good babe, I’m good” Liam replied, the sound of sheets being ruffling echoing through the speaker. “Just miss you, wish you were here.”

“Only been a week babe,” he laughed, yet his heart ached at the admission, knowing full well that the minute he had boarded the plane back to London, he had already been missing his boys, maybe Liam more than the others.

“A week’s too long,” grunted Liam, and Zayn could picture it in his head, Liam lying down in bed, half awake do to the alcohol, a gorgeous pout on his lips as he complained about Zayn being the perfect pillow.

“Bed’s too cold without you, and video games are boring without you,” Liam continued as Zayn just listened, fingers now curled around the counter.

“Its LA,” argued Zayn, “Can’t be that cold.”

“It is when your not there,” Liam countered, a new tone to his voice, something almost enthralling as more ruffling was heard. “You’re so hot Zayn, so fucking sexy.”

Zayn forced out a chuckle, threading his fingers through his loose fringe as he closed his eyes desperately hoping this was a dream. “You’re drunk babe.”

“So drunk,” echoed Liam, a smile etched into his voice. “So drunk for you, because I miss you. I can’t stop thinking about you Zayn, I never can! You’re all I see when I close my eyes, like now. Fuck babe, I’m so horny and I wish you were here.”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, hands suddenly clammy as his heart raced, Zayn coughed, trying to come up with something to say. Yet, the more he tried, the less he could and the silence on the line grew as Liam moaned into the phone.

“Its always been you Zayn,” Liam whispered, a secret between the two of them, something Zayn had never allowed himself to think about because Liam was straight. And now that it all came through, that Liam was half way around the world, drunk off his mind, he was admitting to something Zayn had hidden for years, something he pretended never existed.

“You’re my boy you know that?” he heard Liam add at the other end of the line, the words slurred and sounding half asleep.

“Yeah, I’m yours,” Zayn whispered back, rubbing at his face in frustration as he heard the softness of Liam’s breathing slow, little snores being filtered into the receiver.

He should probably hang up now, knew how Liam often fell asleep half way through a conversation when he was that drunk. And he had to be drunk, completely freaking smashed to admit something like this to Zayn. Maybe it wasn’t even true, just mindless drunken blabber because they hadn’t seen each other in a few days, which they weren’t use to.

Yeah that must be it, Zayn forced himself to think as he walked back up to his room, closing the door as he settled in bed.

Bringing the phone up to his ear, he listened to Liam’s constant breathing, the sound of the sheets moving against his body and he tried not to grow hard. Failed miserably, really. Because all he could think about was Liam.

The minute he closed his eyes, allowed his brain to go there, there were hundreds of images flashing through his mind, memories and fictions, all of Liam. Smiling Liam, shirtless Liam, dancing Liam, singing Liam, cuddly Liam, moody Liam.

So many different state of Liam, yet all encompassing that one person Zayn had grown so freaking attached to, his Liam. Easing his racing heart, mind lulled to slumber by the beautiful images flashing before his eyes, Zayn allowed sleep to overcome him, dragging him down into a shuffling rest, where he swore he could hear Liam moan, but it was so distant and small that he ignored it. Eventually passing out and hoping that the next day would bring amnesia.

\----------------------------------

The days went on with no news from Liam, Zayn mind still chasing around what was probably just drunk babbling, as he packed for LA. His flight was arriving late in the night, a good measure he had precariously planned to try and avoid Liam.

Its not really that he didn’t want to see him, quite the contrary, every time he closed his eyes, his best mate was all he could see. He just needed time, maybe a little distance to digest everything that Liam had said.

It was innocent praise of a drunken boy missing his best friend with too much time to spare. Zayn knew all too well how sometimes, when you had all the money in the world, all the possibilities, there was nothing you wanted more than a reminder of simple things, of simple love. And that’s what Liam had probably craved that night after dancing with countless girls that only approached him for their five minutes of fame and the possibilities to tell their friends about who they met.

It was a shallow world, one Zayn tended to avoid but that Liam often got lost in. The boy was too nice, too perfect as he always tried to please everyone, to make every one else happy at the detriment of his own happiness.

The plane landed in the dead of the night, Zayn’s face hidden from the paps by the darken shadows and someone nicer and more popular strutting before him. He made it to hotel in record time, barely no police escort. It was almost nice to be semi-anonymous, only a few fans waiting for him at the hotel.

He was rushed in however by the bodyguards who both looks just as tired as he felt, the time zone fucking with his system. Minutes later he had the card to his room, nodding thanks to the boys as he made his way up to his floor. It was eerie quiet as usual, the fake cozyness of the hotel always leaving him with a bitter sensation.

Swiping the card through the mechanism, he pushed his way in, his suitcase nipping at his heals as he shut the door. He closed his eyes with a sigh, leaning against the doorframe.

“Long flight babe?”

Zayn’s eyes snapped open immediately at the sound of Liam’s mellow voice, his entire body sagging into the door as if all his strength had been robbed from him.

“Didn’t expect you to be here,” he replied, pulling himself together as he rolled his suitcase a little further in, before abandoning it, all but rushing for the balcony where he could finally have a cigarette.

“I always wait up for you, that’s our deal,” Liam said as he followed him out, a light hand coming to settle at the bottom of his back, which had him shivering into the touch. “Its been shit without

you Zee.”

Zayn hummed in response, trying to concentrate on the rhythm of his heart, the sound of the nearby traffic, the way the cigarette between his lips burned out, everything but Liam’s hand touching him.

“Should of come home then,” he tried, his voice getting caught in the smoke between them. But Liam only smiled, brushing the fringe off Zayn’s sweaty forehead.

“I’ll let you sleep, yeah?” Liam whispered as he leaned in, lips brushing against Zayn’s forehead before he pulled away. “I’ll leave the doors to the connecting rooms open if you need a cuddle.”

Without another word, Liam left, the pressure building in Zayn’s body giving away immediately as the burning touch was removed, his hip suddenly needing the strength of the railing to hold him up. He could still feel the subtle touch of Liam’s fingertips on his forehead, the heat of his lips against his skin, the scent of his body entering his every pore.

It was so intoxicating, so addictive and ever since he’d heard Liam utter the words its always been you, Zayn’s body couldn’t help but react to every thing. It was on constant high alert, craving the proximity the other so willing gave. Liam was acting so normal though, as if noting had been spoken which only pushed Zayn further into his theory of drunken stupidity. Liam was his best mate, simply lonely in a big city, wanting a piece of home to cling to on an alcohol-laced night. Zayn had been his solution, its what mates were for after all.

His cigarette now burned to ashes, the need long forgotten, overtaken by a stronger need for something else, for some else, Zayn sighed as he shuffled back into the room, falling face first onto the bed. He groaned, his head thumping with an aggressive headache, eyes shot red from the flight as he rubbed at them furiously. He could feel some tears stinging the back of his eyes and he refused to cry.

Pushing himself up he quickly stripped, running through a five minute shower before brushing his teeth and slipping into bed, the darkness of the room caressing his skin as he lay restless on the plush mattress. From the bed he could see the open door that lead to Liam’s room. It was probably a mirror of his own, but as he lay unnervingly still on the bed, its appeal grew on him.

Swearing under his breath, he grabbed a pillow, making his way through the night, the soft carpet absorbing the sound of his every footstep. He found himself at the end of Liam’s bed, the boy wrapped around a million pillows, a little fort around him to stimulate someone’s presence grabbing at Zayn’s heart. He eased his way so he could stand next to Liam, fingers automatically reaching out to run along the man’s stubbled jaw.

“Leeyum, I can’t sleep,” he whispered, knowing full well that through thick and thin, hurricanes and screaming arenas, Liam could always hear him. It was a little like his super power, his ability to find Zayn where ever and when ever, to hear and see him in a crowd of millions as if he was the only one there.

Immediately, Liam shuffled further into the bed, pushing at the pillows around him until they toppled to the floor. He rolled onto his back, hand seeking out Zayn as he pulled him into the bed.

Settling on his side, his own head now pillowed on the back of Liam’s arm, Zayn watched the movement of Liam’s chest that heaved with every breath. He couldn’t help the itch in his fingers as he allowed his fingers to run along Liam’s naked stomach, hand wrapping around his hip to shake him a little.

“I’m cold,” he grumbled childlike, a complete lie he fully assumed because in the darkness of the night he didn’t want to think with his brain. He gave his heart a few minutes to control him, curling into the flow of Liam’s body as he turned towards him, their faces mere centimeters from one another.

“I’ll keep you warm Zee,” Liam promised, his eyes not opening once, and as soon as the words were uttered, Zayn knew the boy was once again sleeping. And so he cuddled closer, wrapping his arm around Liam’s waist, the familiarity of it so painful and yet so normal. He felt more at home now than he had in days, far from London, far from his family.

Trying not to think about it, Zayn closed his eyes, giving in to the ways of his troubled heart. -----------------------------

Zayn woke up to an empty bed, completely unfazed, as he knew Liam’s work out routine by heart. Stretching out in the king size bed, he rolled around, enjoying the feel of the satin sheets against his skin, his morning erection suddenly straining, as he smelled the air around him.

It smelled so much like Liam, that constant mixture of clean sweat and cologne he’d grown to love. His mind still fuzzy from sleep, body tense with need, Zayn gave in to the craving, inching his hand down his stomach and into his boxer, gripping himself tightly.

The minute he circled his dick, his hips started thrusting up, already desperate for relief as he muffled a moan into the pillow, shamelessly stroking himself. He figured Liam was downstairs for breakfast, and wouldn’t be up for a little while, and even if he walked in, it wouldn’t be the first time. They were constantly together anyways, they had all seen each other wank off accidentally.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, Zayn kept pumping himself, allowing his body to move with his hand, sighing a curse when he felt some precome gather at his tip.

He tried not to think of Liam, tried to think of every thing and anything that wasn’t his best mate, but the words from days ago still echoed in his mind. All he could see now was Liam on his knees, lapping greedily at his dick only to pull away and whisper to Zayn, you’re my boy.

Breath now coming out erratically, Zayn increased his cadence, lost in the feeling of his hand and just as he was about to push a saliva-slicked finger into himself he heard it. Heard Liam’s high falsetto of a JT song coming from the shower and the image had him coming over his hand.

He could hear it so clearly now, even through the blankness of his orgasm; the water hitting the floor of the shower and tiles around, the perfect humming of Liam’s voice. The thought of him so close, naked and wet was too much for Zayn, every stroke that milked his orgasm almost painful but he felt like he couldn’t stop. He wanted more, wanted something so much more realistic, wanted Liam here with him or even better, want to be wet and naked with Liam.

Forcing his hand to stop, his fingers completely smothered in come, his boxer sticking uncomfortably to his skin, Zayn hurried out of bed towards his own room. He was desperate to get away from Liam now as the shame and guilt settled in, his stomach churning as he closed the door between their rooms and locked it for the first time in years, escaping into the steam of his own shower. He cleaned the evidence of his shameful wank session off, tossing his boxers into the trash before anyone could see.

He sat at the bottom of the shower, head hung low in defeat as he tried to convince himself this wouldn’t happen again, that time would settle things and he’d be able to bury his feelings for Liam once again. And yet, as the air in the room grew thicker, the steam clinging to the frosted glass,

Zayn knew he was wrong. His obsession and need for Liam was only growing and he had to figure out how to deal with it before it ruined his friendship.

Standing, he turned the dial off, the water ceasing as he stepped out and towelled himself dry. He heard a knock at the door connecting his room to Liam’s ignoring it even if his heart screamed at him as he dressed quickly, escaping in the hallway and down the stairs for breakfast, far away from Liam and everything his mind was throwing at him.

Later that morning, when Liam finally made his down to breakfast, settling before Zayn there was a broken smile on the boy’s lip, something almost unreadable but Zayn knew. Knew he had fucked up, created a barrier both physical and mental between him and Liam and for the first time in four years and Liam was obviously quite confused about it.

“Everything ok Zee?” Liam asked after a few minutes, his breakfast and black coffee full of sugar untouched, which was quite unlike him.

Shrugging Zayn shoved another spoonful of Weetabix in his mouth, smiling around the spoon.

“Fine, just tired,” he mumbled, turning to his phone as he scrolled through endless unimportant email, trying to shut out Liam as much as he could because even now, the room filled with friends and people from the crew, his dick as aching hard.

All he could think of was how much he wished he’d stay in the US a few weeks ago, and accompanied Liam to LA. Maybe then he would have gotten drunk with Liam that night and ended up with more than words clinging his mind, maybe he had missed out on his only chance to touch Liam that way.

\---------------------------------

The first show back was a disaster. Well, really it wasn’t but it felt like it to Zayn. The fans screamed just as loud as ever, firing them on, making Zayn smile even though his entire body was buzzing. At first he’d tried to avoid Liam, walked the other way when he saw him, sang his lines to Niall rather than him, sat next to Louis, but Liam always found a way right next to him.

It was the proximity to Liam that was killing him, the way his best mate kept following him, walking up behind him while grinding his hips in the air making Zayn groan. It took all the concentration he had not to pop a boner on stage or to remember when to sing, because most of the time he sat in completely awe, eyes tracing the lines of Liam’s body moving so perfectly across the huge stage.

And then there was his voice, so freaking beautiful and perfect, running shivers up Zayn’s spin as he walked right next to one of the loud speakers, drowning in everything that was Liam around him.

If he wasn’t looking at Liam, or hearing him, he was scanning the crowd, finding hundreds of signs screaming at him about how beautiful Liam was, how perfect, sweet, nice, cute, adorable, sexy he was.

It was all too much, all too Liam and so the minute they bowed out, running off stage, Zayn was making a B-line for the bathroom, pushing a hand down his pants almost before the door was locked.

It was so filthy and pathetic, something he had never done before but he couldn’t help it, pumping himself dry because he was so desperate to get off. He could still feel Liam’s touch down his back, see Liam’s face when he had approached him on stage earlier, crowding him in, lips so close to his own before he had whispered in his ear.

Within seconds Zayn was coming, hand cramped from the constricting movement, arm burning as the adrenaline fell, Liam’s name stinging the tip of his tongue as he pressed his forehead to the cold tile of the bathroom stall.

A loud banging on the door shook him back to reality, Paul’s voice filtering through the cheap metal. “We have to go Zayn, hurry up.”

“Be right out,” he called back, voice sounding completely fucked out. He hoped Paul took it as the rawness from 2 hours of singing, not putting two and two together and figuring out that he had been jerking off in the bathroom.

Washing his hands quickly, feeling completely gross as he zipped his jeans, Zayn made his way out to the car park, Paul close on his heels. He rounded the corner around the black van, pulling the door open. When he peered in, his heart stopped, Paul pushing him into the only seat left, right next to Liam.

He sat uncomfortably, wiggling in his seat as they made their way out of the arena and towards the hotel, hundreds of fans in the street screaming his name yet the only thing he could hear was Liam’s breathing fanning across his neck.

They stayed completely silent, the other boys probably rambunctiously loud in the other van. It wasn’t uncommon for Liam and Zayn to leave together, Zayn often being the last one out and Liam simply preferring to talk to the crew to thank them. For once though, it was dead silent, so much so that Paul kept looking back at them from the front seat, as if asking what the hell was wrong with them. Zayn ignored him, kept his eyes on the street as it whisked by and thought of everything but Liam.

He sighed in relief when he finally saw the hotel come into view, the underground parking feeling like the escape from the growing ball of fire growing in his stomach, so close to consuming him as Liam leaned in to look out his window, waving at fans even if they couldn’t see him.

Just as Zayn was about to open the door, his hand already curled around the handle, Liam fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist. He felt the other boy’s entire body placate itself to his back, Liam’s lips grazing his ear as he whispered. “Next time you need a hand, just come find me babe”.

Turning with wide eyes, Zayn all but fell out the van when Paul swung the door open, catching him before he hit the hard concrete. Pulling himself together, his feet feeling foreign on the ground Zayn looked around, seeking Liam, fully certain he had imagined what had just happened. But Liam was already gone, nowhere in sight, leaving Zayn completely lost as Paul escorted him up to his room, worried about the sudden color in his cheeks.

“You sure you don’t want me to call the doctor?” Paul demanded as he shuffled him into his room, a glass a water pressed into his hand before he could even protest.

“I’m fine,” assured Zayn for the millionth time, downing the water in two gulps with a smile to prove Paul wrong. “Just need some sleep and some food”.

His brow furrowed, a worried look etched into his face, Paul nodded without much conviction. “You call me if there’s anything, or get Liam yeah?”

Zayn forced a smile, falling back onto the bed with a frustrated groan. He heard the door tick shut behind Paul, trigger a few curses from his own lips as he rolled around in bed like a child so fucking angry and confused.

Even Paul was telling him to seek out Liam if needed, and its like for the first time, Zayn realized just how dependent of his best mate he was. But this was so much more, it was a need that Liam had fired up days ago and that had never settle, it had burned brighter at the pit of his stomach, groaning furiously until it consumed him and the words whispered in his ear earlier had only set him ablaze. He was being eaten alive by the fire in his stomach, a fire Liam had started with a flicker of words.

Zayn couldn’t deny it any longer, this wild and curious desire he had for Liam, and the fact that Liam might just reciprocate. They teased each other constantly, Harry often joking about how he was always in to offer a helping hand, but this was different. This was a raging, primal need, something uncomfortable that had Zayn pulling himself up, small steps dragged over the carpet as he made his way towards the connecting door.

He raised his fist, stopping a few inches from the door before dropping his hand, a defeat grunt escaping his mouth. Pressing his forehead to the warm wood, he tried to shut down his brain, tried to give his heart some control, some courage. He could hear the sound of soft music through the door, some Ed Sheeran playing softly as Liam hummed to it. There was the clinking sound of a glass, liquid filling it up as Zayn closed his eyes.

“Its just Liam, you can do this,” Zayn said to himself, trying so hard to convince his brain that this wasn’t suicide. But in fact, it was. This could ruin the last four years and possibly the rest of his life. If he made a move and Liam wasn’t interested, all would turn awkward and it would make the band crumble in seconds. But there was that what if at the back of Zayn’s mind, pushing through so hard lately and he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Knocking softly, Zayn took a step back, unlocking the door as he awaited a response on Liam’s end.

“Door’s always unlocked Zee, you know that,” he heard Liam mutter from the other side, sounding so small and broken.

Turning the knob, he came face to face with Liam, sitting casually on the bed, a glass in hand as his head hung low, eyes glued to the carpet.

“You’ve never locked the door before,” Liam continued, twirling his drink in hand before chugging it down in one shot, standing and making his way towards Zayn. Their eyes met as Liam prowled towards him, disposing of now empty glass on the nearby table.

“Why d’you lock the door babe?” Liam asked when he was only a foot away from Zayn, reaching out to run his fingers along Zayn’s jaw, fingers getting caught on his lips, almost purposefully.

Swallowing around the nerves, Zayn closed his eyes, leaning into Liam’s touch because he didn’t know what else to do. Words weren’t his thing, he didn’t know how to be open and honest. He was good at drawing things, at hiding and painting as he splattered his emotions on to walls and canvases, not at spilling his heart with linguistics.

“I don’t know how to do this Li,” he finally whispered, not even sure if the words were loud enough to be heard. All he could hear was the blood pulsing through his brain, his heart hammering so hard as his body leaned into Liam.

A warm arm wrapped itself around his waist, keeping him grounded and focused as he pressed his forehead to Liam’s collarbone.

“Show me how to do this please,” he mumbled, his lips getting caught in the material of Liam’s shirt. “I need you to help me.”

“Always,” Liam hummed in his hair, a smile in his voice as Zayn was stirred towards the bed where he went willingly, raising his arms above his head as directed when Liam pulled off his shirt.

For the first time in his life Zayn felt self-conscious while shirtless before Liam, watching the other boy strip of his own shirt, so much muscle and taunt skin exposed in comparison to his scrawny tattooed body. He felt so small, utterly minuscule as Liam’s pushed at his shoulder, spreading his legs to settle between them as he loomed over Zayn.

“You don’t have to do this,” Liam finally said when he was settled above Zayn on all four, amber chocolate eyes burning with so much emotion but still, he was in control. Zayn could see it in his eyes, that restraint Liam kept such a tight hold on even now when they were both half undressed and in bed together, so close to crossing a line that would change things forever.

Zayn watched Liam for a few seconds, the way he licked his lips as his arms strained on either side of Zayn’s head, almost begging for something of their own. With a sudden spark of courage, the ball of fire in his body expanding, Zayn leaned up, pressing his lips firmly to Liam’s, praying for a response, which he got immediately.

Liam kissed him back with a feverish moan, his body coming to settle perfectly upon Zayn’s own, their hips rolling together as they tasted one another.

Liam kissed him like there would be no tomorrow, like the world was ending in seconds and he had so much to say. There were words screamed in every flick of his tongues, so many I need you too and why did you wait so long echoing between them.

The kiss built itself into seconds, a simple touch of lips now turned into the desires of two bodies, clawing at one another, fingers leaving bruises as they tore at each other’s pants, lips barely parting to breathe. Liam tasted like so many things, sweet and so addictive, a little bit like Jack Daniels, but completely unique.

It was sloppy and uncoordinated, Liam laughing into Zayn’s mouth as his foot got stuck in the ankle of his skinny jeans making Zayn grunt with annoyance. As Liam untangled himself, kneeling at the foot of the bed to help him out of his jeans, Zayn suddenly froze, remembering the sticky mess he’d made earlier that started itching instantly.

“I need a shower,” he blurted out, scrambling off the bed and away from Liam, feeling so inadequate. He looked at Liam so beautiful and strong before him, so confident as he watched Zayn with a ghost of a smile across his now bruised mouth.

“You don’t smell that bad babe,” Liam joked, advancing towards Zayn. “Plus, I like how you smell.”

And Zayn didn’t know how to formulate the words, how to explain he’d jerked off like a kid in the bathroom and came in his pants because Liam had made him crazy all night. He fell into Liam’s open arms easily, accepting the kisses that were now peppered across his jaw.

“You know what I did, you twat,” he said, a blush staining his cheek as he pulled away, taking another step towards the bathroom. “I need to wash up, I’m gross.”

This time Liam let him go, still smiling like a goofy idiot that was oh so proud to be the reason why Zayn felt like a teenager once again. Walking away, Zayn couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, leaving Liam hanging there, a very evident erection in his boxers.

Looking over his shoulder, a shy smile plastered to his face, he coughed softly, bringing Liam’s attention away from his ass and up to his face.

“It will only take a minute,” he promised, feeling a little better now, a little more confident.

With that, Zayn walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he chucked his boxers once again into the trash, thinking he was going to have to buy some new ones soon if he kept nutting off in them like a kid. Turning the shower on, he stepped in, rushing through the motions, his skin feeling so sensitive, Liam’s touch lingering upon his entire body.

In less than 2 minutes he was out, a towel tied around his hips as he watched himself in the mirror, his wet hair falling in his eyes, skin glistening under the cold lighting of the bathroom.

The longer he looked at himself, the longer he wondered what Liam saw, what he could possibly want. He was a little too skinny, a little too different, always the exception to the rule. He was the ethnicity of the band, the mysterious one, the bad boy, the one that smoked, the one that had a religion, the plus one and Liam was the center of everything. He was the ball of sunshine, the center of the universe. Liam was person everyone gravitated towards, the person everyone wanted to work with. The person that everyone loved.

Pulling the towel around his hips a little tighter, Zayn started to panic, bile rising in his throat as his legs shook. Eyes closed, he tried to breathe through it, tried to slow the anxiety as it gripped at his mind making his tumble into this pattern he hated.

But all halted when strong arms wrapped themselves around his waist, plush lips finding the back of his neck.

“Breathe babe,” he heard Liam whisper, the voice making him shiver in relief. He should have pushed Liam away, ran back to his own room because he was so desperately pathetic but for some reason he stayed, allowed Liam’s calm voice to center him, to bring him back down to earth as his mind started to clear.

“I’m right here, “ Liam continued in between gentle kisses that were pressed along his shoulders. “You’re ok, you’re beautiful Zayn”.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a tremble to his tone he hated, but the arms around him only tightened, molding him to Liam’s chest.

“Don’t be,” Liam countered, fingers falling upon his lips as he was turned around, their eyes meeting. Zayn tried to smile against the fingers, kissing them softly as Liam pulled his hand away. He felt a renewed vigor stir inside him as he watch Liam’s face, the worried expression etched there slowly dissipating as Zayn’s smile grew.

“I want to ride you,” he suddenly blurted out, amused when Liam’s whole face broken into a surprised state of shock, eyes wide but so fucking emotional.

“Its late, we don’t hav-“ started Liam, but Zayn stopped him with a kiss, tongue pushing its way into Liam’s mouth to silence him, to say everything he couldn’t find the words to express.

He dropped his towel to emphasize his intentions, hands settling around Liam’s neck as he kept kissing his best mate, shutting his brain down. And Liam just went with it, grunting into the kiss as he lifted Zayn off the ground, pressing him into the wall to get a better grip before turning towards the bed, making his way into the softly lit room.

Breaking away from the kiss, Zayn looked around, laughing wholeheartedly at the set up. There were candles on the dresser dancing with the air in the room, quiet music in the background as Liam kissed a path down his shoulder.

“You’re such a fucking sap,” he grunted as Liam dropped him onto the bed, covering him with his body in an instant, their lips meeting once more.

“I am when it comes to you,” Liam said as he pulled away, so serious as if daring Zayn to tell him this isn’t how it had always been between them. This intensity, this need and pull to make the other happy, to make everything perfect. There had always been this build up between them, this thing that they had never answered to but that was now crashing around them, dragging them down into its bliss.

“I meant what I said,” continued Liam as he kneeled away from Zayn, pulling his own pants and boxers down, joining Zayn in all his glorious nakedness.

Zayn couldn’t help but gasp when Liam spread his thighs, exposing him, but he allowed it, too enthralled by the way Liam’s eyes flickered with desire as he leaned in licking slowly at the inside of Zayn’s thighs.

“Its always been you,” finished Liam, before sucking on the head of Zayn’s painfully hard dick, making him moan shamelessly even if he half felt like crying.

This all felt so dreamlike. Liam on his knees between his thighs sucking his dick while telling him what he had always fantasied about. He let it happen though, pushed his hips up, bathing in the pleasure of Liam’s mouth.

When Liam blindly offered Zayn his hand he knew what to do, sucking two of the man’s finger into his mouth greedily, slicking them up with a grunt as he anticipated the burning stretch.

When Liam pulled his fingers away, Zayn almost whimpered, biting his lips to prevent the shamefully need to pierce the air as he watched Liam’s head bob between his quivering thighs.

Seconds later he felt the first finger poking at his hole, forcing him to lie down, eyes closed as he concentrated not to come. The feeling of Liam’s mouth around him, doing sinful thing with his tongue and his finger pushing inside him was almost too much. He needed this to last, wanted to ride Liam while holding his hand, watch the man he had grown to admire so much fall apart under him.

Liam seemed to have other plans though, moving sinfully slow, curling his finger just right, pushing directly at Zayn’s prostate which had him crying out, trying desperately to pull at Liam’s hair to get him off. In that moment, he missed the curls, thought about how perfect they would have been to fist his fingers through, forcing Liam’s head up or down like he wanted.

He watched as Liam pulled away from his dick, a line of saliva dripping from his lips still connecting them as Liam’s finger was withdrawn, making Zayn’s whimper loudly this time,

“Let me do it,” Zayn moaned breathlessly, kissing Liam’s swollen lips as he pushed him onto his back, only to straddle his thighs, settling comfortably as their erections rubbed against one another.

He saw the lube and condom on the bedside table, stretching over where he grabbed both of them coating his fingers thoroughly as Liam watched him with wide eyes.

Zayn went to work quickly, forcing a finger into himself, rocking back into it as he searched Liam’s face for a response, completely amazed by the way he kept licking his lips. Feeling sexy, a little disheveled, he pushed a second finger in, moving it with purpose, stretching himself open as he threw his head back, moaning only to capture Liam’s interest.

He felt hands on his waist, fingers digging bruises into his skin and he loved every second of it, feeling impossibly free, rocking into his own fingers one more time before opening his eyes, finding Liam observing him from beneath.

He grinned, cheeks flushed, looking down at his body already covered in a thin coat of sweat as he grabbed the condom, opening it with trembling fingers.

The first touch of his hand to Liam’s dick had the other man groaning, pushing up into the touch, which Zayn was happy to give. He lingered a little, tightening his hold, pumping Liam a few times before rolling down the condom, a little to desperate to get off.

Lifting himself onto his knees, he watched as Liam took himself in hand, aiding Zayn down, the head of his’s dick pushing through the rim. It was so much more than Zayn had anticipated, maybe the mixture of physical and emotional but the slowness of it all had his mind going blank. He forced his body to accept the intrusion, silencing Liam’s please for him to take it easy with his mouth.

He kissed him with fever, rocking his hips restlessly until finally he couldn’t take anymore of Liam in. It took a few seconds before he pushed himself up, finally starting to enjoy the burn, his body strumming as he gasped with pleasure, Liam’s own hips started to counter his movement.

“You look breathtaking,” he heard Liam say against his lips as their hips mirrored one another.

Its all it took for Zayn to finally let go of the last of his restraint, quickening his past, teeth digging their brand into Liam’s collarbone as he chased his orgasm. Unlike usual it grew around him, from the touches of Liam’s fingers on his back, the sound of the music Liam has chosen for them, the little heat the candles provided. It was the shadows that were cast upon Liam’s cheek when he closed his eyes looking so blissful that made Zayn struggle to breath.

When Liam’s hand found his way through his hair, tugging him down into another kiss, his other hand wrapping around Zayn’s dick, Zayn lost it. He cried out Liam’s name, biting down on the man’s lip as his body shook from his climax, coating Liam and himself in come.

And even as he continued to come, it didn’t feel like enough, didn’t feel like he could ever give up Liam. So he kept rocking back, forcing his hips down, pushing Liam deeper into himself even if he was so oversensitive he wanted to cry.

He felt so alive, his skin a million times more responsive as Liam’s hand that wasn’t milking his dick roamed his body. And when Liam finally came, the fire inside of him burned even bigger.

His own name left Liam’s lips like a plea, a merciful plea Zayn accepted as it wrapped around him, a promise of love and understanding that he countered with a passionate kiss.

As their movements slowed and came to a halt, their bodies tangled into one another, almost one, Zayn finally realized how stupid he’d been. After everything, the countless sleepless night and worried days, Liam had always been the one for him.

“You’re all I see when I close my eyes too,” he whispered, lips pressed to Liam’s collarbone as he smiled, feeling Liam do the same, a soft kissed lost in his wet hair.

“I feel invincible,” Liam laughed as he gently pulled out, rolling Zayn onto his side before cuddling around him, his bigger body perfectly set into the lines of Zayn’s own.

And Zayn laughed too, a light chuckle that resonated through the air as he kissed Liam’s hand.

“Baby we’re fireproof”, he whispered back as sleep laced his mind because in the end, the fire inside him that he’d been so scared of hadn’t consumed him but rather shown him just how bright he could shine.


End file.
